


Look at it From Another Angle

by mahons_ondine



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Anxiety, D/s, Fluff and Angst, Jack Feels, Jack-Centric, Kink, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 14:48:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6055531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahons_ondine/pseuds/mahons_ondine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack knows he will try almost anything once, but not everything requires a second go.  </p><p>Bitty might have a better idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look at it From Another Angle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Burning_Up_A_Sun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burning_Up_A_Sun/gifts).



> This was supposed to be a super light-hearted bit of fluffy porn, but then the angst parade showed up. I actually think I like it better this way though!  
> This isn't betaed, and if I missed any errors, please let me know. In particular, my French is rusty, and I do not speak Quebecois, so if I made any mistakes tell me so that I can fix them! 
> 
> This is for [Burning_Up_A_Sun](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Burning_Up_A_Sun/pseuds/Burning_Up_A_Sun) who gave me the idea for this fic from their [response](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6029469) to the same challenge. (It's lovely, go read it if you haven't already!)

They try it again. They first time is an unmitigated disaster. See it started like this, he and Bitty were cooking, that part is only strange because Jack is actually helping for once, and Bitty is letting him. It's not that Jack is a terrible cook or anything, but he's just an efficient one. His food is edible and nutritious, but it's a chore even eating. Most things were a chore until Bitty came along and lit up the world. He lit up Jack's tastebuds with his food. Then he lit up Jack's hockey with his speed. And finally he lit up Jack's heart with his smile. Somewhere in there he lit up Jack's cock with... Every piece of him. 

 

It's not like Jack was never interested in sex before Bitty, but Parse was the only person who had ever made him ache before.  And Jack can't separate those feelings from the drugs, and the less said about that the better. 

 

So Jack is incandescent with Bitty near him. And when he finally realized it wasn't going away, and it wasn't changing, and he was becoming almost addicted to Bitty in a way that frightened him, he ran. He got all the way to Providence, to the Falconers, but he only made it three weeks before he was shaking and nervous. He wanted to go to Georgia. He went to Montreal instead. 

 

His mother pulled the story from him like taffy, the words sticking in his teeth, choking him. Somehow she understood anyway.

 

"Va à lui, enfant de mon coeur. Tu merites le bonheur." 

 

"Mais maman, le hockey!" 

 

"J'men calice del hockey. Nous pouvons mettre au point le hockey." 

 

Jack gaped. "Maman!" 

 

"Allez mon petit." 

 

Jack swallowed, still nervous, but his mother was always right. He went. It was worth it just for the look on Bitty's face when he showed up the next morning. And for the look on his face in his parents moonlit kitchen when Jack kissed him squarely on the mouth, his massive hands cupping Bitty's jaw like one of his mother's porcelain enshrined in the bric-a-brac they nearly knock over in their haste. 

 

A lot of things seem to happen in the kitchen. It's where a piece of Jack first fell in love with a piece of Bitty. It's where they first kissed. And it's where they get some of their brightest and worst ideas. After the first time Jack is pretty sure it's the later. 

 

So, see the thing is, their sex life is fantastic. Bitty is gorgeous and enthusiastic and far better with his tongue than he has any right to be. Bitty seems happy, and that makes Jack happy.  And so he's willing to try almost anything that Bitty wants. And when Jack playfully swats at Bitty's ass with a spatula when they're cooking, and Bitty suggests they try something new in bed, well Jack isn't particularly jazzed about it, but he doesn't think it's a big deal. 

 

He's wrong.

 

He is so wrong. It's awkward to start out, and the safeword thing is pretty overwhelming, and he's already pretty nervous before they even get their clothes off. When Bitty drapes himself across Jack's lap it gets better for a minute--Bitty does have a spectacularly beautiful backside--but with the first smack Jack knows something is wrong. 

 

He doesn't like the look of Bitty's skin pinked up with a handprint. And he doesn't know how many times he's supposed to hit Bitty. Or how hard. He tries another, and it's worse than the first. Bitty flinches, and let's out a whimper and Jack is frozen. He doesn't want to hurt Bitty. Bitty is perfect and lovely and everything good in his life. It might be ok if Bitty seemed to like it more, but he looks uncomfortable, and Jack doesn't know if he's doing it wrong. 

 

Or maybe he's doing it right but should he do it again is that enough is Bitty hurting what's his safe word 

 

Jack's chest feels tight. 

 

Is this what's supposed to happen does Bitty not like what they did before should he try again maybe it gets better maybe he will learn to like it 

 

Jack tries to lift his hand, but he can't. He can't lift his hand and he can't breathe. He stares at his hand willing it to rise. Instead he feels his lunch rising out of his stomach into his esophagus. He tumbles Bitty off of his lap and sprints for the bathroom. 

 

He barely makes it in time to empty the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl. And then he sinks to his knees. He throws up again and again until there's nothing left. He has bile and tears splattered all down his front. He didn't even know he was crying. Bitty peeks tentatively around the doorframe, and he looks so sad and small and lost wrapped in only Jack's discarded shirt that it sets off a fresh wave of tears.  Bitty sits down next to him and gathers him close, heedless of the muck covering his chest. Bitty pets his hair and wraps him in his warmth until Jack finally stops shaking. 

 

They don't discuss it.  

 

Jack is miserable. Finally, a week after the disaster, Bitty sits him down. Jack is all apologies and self-recriminations, but Bitty is firm with him--it is not Jack's fault, and Bitty will be perfectly happy if they never do it again. Jack believes him most of the time. 

 

That is over winter break during Bitty’s Senior year.  It’s Jack’s second year in the NHL, and he’s finally beginning to feel ore comfortable—with himself, with Bitty, even with the pressure.  It’s still lays heavy across his shoulders, though, and he can’t always fight it off.  When Bitty moves in at the beginning of the summer, things are particularly tense.  It should be one of the happiest days of his life. It should be.  But it isn’t. 

Jack is scared.  He’s afraid someone will see them together.  He’s afraid of being outed.  He’s afraid of not being outed, and feeling like he should keep hiding.  He’s afraid Bitty won’t be happy keeping their life so private.  Bitty assures him that he’s fine with just telling their friends and family, and keeping him, and their relationship completely out of the media.  Jack isn’t sure he believes him.  Jack isn’t sure that _he’s_ fine with it.  Mostly, though, Jack is afraid that he won’t be good enough. 

When Jack whispers that against Bitty’s skin in the dark their first night in the apartment that is now _theirs_ instead of just _his_ ¸ Bitty is appalled. 

“Jack.  Please.  You make me very happy.  You give me everything.” 

“I give you what I can, but it isn’t enough.  I don’t give you everything.” 

“Well, goodness gracious Jack, no one is _perfect,_ but you’ve given me everything I’ve ever asked for.  More even. “

“No I haven’t, Bitty.” 

“Name one thing, honey.”

Jack feels hot all over, and his chest starts to tighten up just thinking about it. 

“I couldn’t. I didn’t… with the spanking.  And the being in charge.  And I just _couldn’t_.  I tried.  I wanted to—for you.  I wanted to like it, and I didn’t.  I hated it.  I didn’t know what to do, or when, or how.  I was so scared, and frozen.  Tabarnak! I couldn’t think. I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry. I _tried!_ ” 

He doesn’t mean to tell Bitty just how he’d felt.  He doesn’t mean to bear his soul like this, but once he starts Jack can’t find it in himself to stop.  And when it’s over, and he’s panting and gasping for breath, well then it feels a little easier. 

“It’s ok,” murmurs Bitty.  “Come here.” 

So Jack goes.  And that’s even easier. 

Bitty doesn’t bring it up again until the next night.  They’re getting undressed, slipping on comfortable pajamas for their lazy night in, and Bitty is leaning against the dresser watching him. 

“Stop.”

Jack freezes, shirt halfway over his head. 

“Take it back off.” 

He complies. 

“I want to try something.  Is that alright with you, hun?”

Jack just nods, a little warily, yes, but he trusts Bitty.  He’d try anything that might make Bitty happy. 

Bitty is circling around him now.  He plucks the shirt from Jack’s nerveless fingers. 

“I think we got it wrong last time with the spanking.  I think what you need is to have your decisions taken away from you, not given more decisions.  It was too much pressure, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” breathes Jack.  “Please Bitty.” 

Jack isn’t sure what he’s asking for.  He isn’t sure what he wants. But he’s sure of Bitty.  Sure that Bitty knows.  Sure that Bitty will make the right choices. 

And he does.  Bitty seems to know.  He seems so composed.  So certain. 

“We aren’t using a safeword, Jack.  If you don’t like something you’re just going to tell me to stop and I will.  And you will tell me, won’t you Jack?” Bitty slides his hand into Jack’s hair and pulls his face down to meet his.  They’re nose to nose, and his breath is hot against Jack’s lips.  “Promise me, Jack.  I won’t do this unless you tell me how you feel.  I don’t want to hurt you.  I want to take care of you.” 

“I promise.” Jack finally chokes out. 

And then Bitty is kissing him.  Kissing him in a way that is overwhelming and filthy, and wonderful.  And then he’s gone.  Jack strains after him, but Bitty steps away. 

“There’s more of that in your future, sugar, but we have some business to attend to first.” 

Bitty takes Jack’s discarded shirt, and ties it around Jack’s eyes, turning it into a makeshift blindfold.  Jack starts, reaching out desperately for Bitty, until he feels those cool, soft hands on his shoulders, and he can breathe again.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.  Please.” 

“Alright. I’m going to take you apart.  And take all your decisions away, and make it so easy.  But first, I think there’s something we need to do.  I need to punish you.”

Jack whimpers, but Bitty cups his cheek, running his thumb along Jack’s bottom lip. 

“Shh.  I’m not mad.  But I think you need to understand in your bones that it’s no ok to be so hard on yourself.  And so I’m going to sit down, and you’re going to lean across my lap, and I’m going to spank you.  And when I’m done you’re going to forgive yourself for what you think you did wrong before.  You’re going to forgive yourself because it’s my decision whether or not you’re forgiven, and after your punishment, I’ve decided you need to let it be. “

Jack nods, tears spilling out of his eyes, and soaking into his blindfold.  He’d never expected something like this. 

“Thank you,” he whispers. 

“You’re welcome.”

Bitty leads him to stand by the bed.  He undresses Jack with gentle fingers.  First Jack’s pajamas, and then his boxers hit the ground.  He should feel exposed.  He wonders briefly if he does feel exposed, but Bitty is stroking his hip.  And Bitty is pressing a kiss to Jack’s cheek. And it doesn’t matter anymore that Jack is naked and he can’t see, and Bitty is looking at him like that because it’s perfect.  He’s exactly where he wants to be—wherever the man he loves is. 

“Are you ready, Jack?”

Jack nods. 

“Remember—you are to tell me if you don’t like something, or want to stop.  Alright?”

Bitty is stroking his jaw. 

Jack breathes. “Alright.”

And then Bitty is pulling Jack down across his lap.  Jack’s head is swimming.  He’s dizzy, and nervous and excited.  He isn’t scared, though.  And then Bitty hits him, and for a brief second of bliss, everything in his head stops.  The first crack of Bitty’s palm against his ass hurts.  It hurts, and Jack has never been so glad for the pain in all his life.  It hurts, and he knows that it will be alright.  He’d hoped that Bitty might be right—that Jack would forgive himself, and now he knows. 

Bitty hits him again, and Jack has to hold back a sniffle. 

“Let go.” 

Bitty hits him again.  And Jack lets go.  And it’s better. 


End file.
